


Leaving Is The Hardest Part

by aconfederacyofscript



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-16
Updated: 2015-03-16
Packaged: 2018-03-18 05:58:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aconfederacyofscript/pseuds/aconfederacyofscript





	Leaving Is The Hardest Part

Leaving is always the hardest part.

Jemma realises that when she hears Skye’s intoxicating laugh coming from the sitting room where she’s playing Call of Duty with Trip.

It makes her throat thick with tears and her eyes burn. She can’t do it. She can’t tell Skye that she’s leaving or why she’s leaving.

One. She can’t because it is a secret undercover operation and Coulson needs her to keep it quiet.

Two. She can’t because it will break Skye’s heart.

Jemma takes a shuddering breath and wipes at her eyes before turning around. She closes the door of her small room behind her and sinks down on the floor.

Skye’s stuff is everywhere. There is a sweater with her lingering smell, there is a stack of clean underwear, there is a headset and a book that Skye read a hundred times.

Coulson had left the decision up to her. They needed someone to gather sensitive intel, someone from before the collapse, someone with a background in science. She was perfect for the job, but Coulson would’ve found another person, had she declined.

But she hadn’t, because of Fitz. And now she kind of wishes she had, because of Skye.

There is a knock at her door and Jemma startles. Skye always knocked, even though she knew she was more than welcome to come in. It still startled her every time.

"Yes." Her voice shakes. She is a terrible liar. How did Coulson imagine this?

That was what she asked him. They built her a story over the past two days, most details copied from her own life. One slip up might cost her the op, or worse, her life. Jemma Simmons, two PhDs, now loyal to science and Hydra’s research division. It was crazy.

The door sqeaks when Skye opens it and her boots feel heavy on the floor. Everything is heavy. Her arms, her head, her heart.

"Why are you sitting on the floor?" Skye deadpans while looking down at her.

"Because it’s comfortable sometimes."

"Have you been crying?"

"No…" She swallows hard, tears filling up her eyes again. "Sorry. It’s just… I just… Sorry."

Skye doesn’t ask, and for once Jemma’s happy. She just crouches down in front of her and cups her face. She just wipes at her cheeks with the love Jemma didn’t deserve pouring from her expression.

"It’s okay."

"I’m so sorry, Skye," Jemma whispers and sits up to bury her face in the front of her sweater. She can’t look at her like this. Skye’s hands find their way around Jemma’s middle and she finds herself being pulled upright and in a hug that nearly lifts her off her feet.

"It’s okay."

If only she knew what was going on. She would think Jemma was breaking up with her. She supresses a sob and wipes at her eyes again, moving to cup Skye’s face and kiss her.

It’s hard and wet, but Skye lets her, kisses back. Nimble fingers tug shirts from waistbands and travel over exposed skin.

"Jemma…" Her name falls from Skye’s lips so easily when she presses hers against her throat. "Jemma look at me."

"Do you want me to stop? We can just go to bed. It’s fine, I…"

"Do you love me, still?" Skye interrupts her and she swallows hard.

"Why do you ask that, Skye? Of course I do. I love you absudly much. You’re the most important thing in the world to me," Jemma whispers and Skye shrugs with tears pooling in her eyes. Her bottom lip quivers.

"It just… This feels like a goodbye."

Jemma can’t answer that. Not because she doesn’t want to, but simply because her heart stutters and her voice falters.

She just unbuttons Skye’s pants and pushes against her hips until her calves hit the bed and Jemma straddles her lap. She kisses her again, her hands tangling in her hair.

"You’re leaving, aren’t you?" Skye whispers against her skin and Jemma shudders.

"Yes…"

"Is it because of me?"

"No… I… Skye…" She sighs when Skye peppers her neck with kisses. "Oh…"

"No more talking," Skye whispers and flips them over.

Jemma relishes every moment. The way her name falls from Skye’s lips anyway, the silent I love yous, how her hair tickles her skin and her body hums in ecstacy when Skye trails kisses down over her chest, lower until she can’t think about tomorrow anymore.

_____

Jemma wakes well before Skye and well before her alarm. Her girlfriend is splayed out on top of her. Her warm breath tickles Jemma’s shoulder, her hand weighing heavily on her abdomen. They fit together perfectly. Every curve, every sigh, every snore. Jemma would miss it all terribly.

She had already packed, and for a moment contemplates if she should wake Skye. She wants to, but doesn’t. She just takes a quick shower and gets dressed.

Before she goes she hesitates. It was so tempting to run her fingers over the soft arch of Skye’s bare back. To press a kiss in the hollow behind her ear. But she doesn’t.

_____

Leaving is always the hardest part.

At least that’s what Jemma thought when she had to do it. She realises now that the hardest part is staying away, especially when she gets home.

At work there’s plenty of distraction. There’s the endless stream of research projects, the eyes of Bobbi Morse and Whitehall’s wrath. It’s enough to keep her thoughts at bay; science always calmed her down.

When she gets home, the apartment doesn’t feel like that so much anymore. Nothing smells like the thing she misses most. There isn’t a trace any where, except of the beers in the fridge. Skye’s favourite. She’s not used to being alone anymore.

Coulson left her a note, he would arrive for his biweekly check-up tonight. It was his third. She had been here for six weeks and on the one hand it made things easier, because with time wounds heal, but the mission also started to drive her insane.

The only time she saw Skye was behind a barrel of a heavy rifle. She had changed, but then again so had she. Maybe Skye had moved on, decided that if she left, she had the right to go on, too. She didn’t know she was coming back after all.

But Skye had seen her too. She had seen that flash of familiarity on her face, that only she would pick out. Skye barely twitched, but it was enough to make her heart stammer.

She’s excited to see Coulson. There were a lot of things she had to tell him. She was anxious to know about the team. If they had gotten off the ship alright. Coulson had cut contact until now.

When she gets home that evening, late, she feels something is different. Coulson snapped on a light to let her know he was there, but that wasn’t the case now. She sees the dim light from the tv, which is muted, but doesn’t see anyone from where she’s standing.

Her heart thumps in her chest and she takes a deep breath before taking her gun from her purse and steadying it in front of her.

In a few steady steps she’s at the living room door, looking right over the edge of the barrel.

"You’re not going to shoot me, are you Simmons?"

She swallows hard. Sitting on her couch is Skye, who doesn’t look up to meet her eyes as she speaks. A bottle of beer stands untouched next to a loaded gun on her coffee table. The news is on. She looks awfully familiar and awfully out of place. She’s resting her forearms on her thighs. She’s in full gear, except that she’s taken off the jacket and is just wearing a light t-shirt.

"I didn’t know it was you. I expected Coulson, and he always leaves a different light on. I’m sorry."

"I didn’t want to startle you."

"I feel like we should talk," Jemma says when she lowers the gun and moves past the fridge to grab herself a beer before sitting down on the edge of the coffee table.

Skye stares at the two items in front of her, her hands wringing so hard her knuckles go white.

"Okay. Talk."

Jemma swallows. All of a sudden she doesn’t know how to behave anymore. She itches to reach out to Skye and touch her hand, but she doesn’t dare.

"Are you mad at me?" Jemma asks when she’s finally found her tongue, but Skye shakes her head.

"Not anymore. I was, though, for the first few weeks. Because I didn’t know."

"I couldn’t tell you, Skye. I’m so sorry, but…"

"… Coulson. I know." Skye looks up at her for the first time, finally, with a light smile. "I just… He told us you needed time off because of Fitz. And you said it wasn’t because of me, and I believed you. But I felt abandoned, you know. I always hoped that no matter what I would be enough reason to stay."

"Oh, Skye… I would never… It was this mission, and I hate not being able to tell you."

"How long did you know?"

"Two days before. That’s all, or it would become too tricky. Also, there was a job opening."

Skye nods again, reaching out to take a sip of her beer.

"Are you hungry? We need to go over your intel and I haven’t had dinner yet."

"I can whip up some pasta. There’s not much to work with, though. I didn’t know you were coming, or I’d have gotten groceries… I usually just pick something up."

"Pasta is fine, Jemma. I also saw ingredients for a salad."

It almost feels like before, when Skye joins her in the kitchen and cuts the cucumber, washes the lettuce leaves. They would bicker about why exactly Jemma wanted her to wash pre-washed lettuce again, but Skye would do it anyway, just like she washed the leaves now, but without the banter.

"How’s everyone?" Jemma asks after a while of silence and leans against the counter, waiting for the pasta to cook through.

"Fitz is doing better, a little bit," Skye smiles sadly, "but it’s hard on him."

"And you?"

"I’m fine, Jemma. Don’t worry about me, you have enough to worry about."

"You’re not fine," Jemma says without thinking and places her hand over Skye’s. They both freeze up for a second, and Jemma pulls away. She swallows. "I’m sorry."

"It’s hard on me too, Jem… I really miss you." Skye bites the inside of her cheek and looks away, before clearing her throat and opening cupboards to find dishes.

It’s easier to talk and eat. Jemma just picks up where she left off with Coulson when Skye asks about the intell and they eat while the other talks. It gives them something to do with their hands, and their minds.

They stack the dishes and cutlery and walk to the kitchen, where Jemma loads the dishwasher. She can feel Skye’s eyes on her, watching her every move.

"I like your new hair," Skye says after what feels like an eternity of silence after Jemma runs out of things to tell her. "It’s nice. It’s badass."

"You also look a lot more badass. I like it. You look great, Skye… I really missed you, too. I can barely believe you’re here."

Skye takes the empty bowl from her hands and slowly puts it on the counter before cupping her cheeks. She swallows hard and Jemma’s breath hitches.

"Did you sleep with anyone else?" Skye’s breath tickles her lips and a shiver trickles down her spine.

"What? Of course not."

Skye grins at Jemma’s look of surprised horror and kisses her tentatively. Jemma exhales through her nose and melts into the kiss. She tangles her fingers in Skye’s shirt, pulling her closer until their bodies are flush together.

Skye feels different under her hands. Her muscles are more defined, the way she stands is different. She’s stronger from working out with May, but she smells the same.

"Jem…" The word falls from Skye’s lips as if she never stopped saying it and Jemma slips her hands under her shirt, wanting more. Needing more.

"I’m here," she whispers and kisses her again and again. "I love you."

Skye sighs. Her lips ghost over her beck while she unbuttons her blouse. She pushes it off Jemma’s shoulders while walking them backwards into the bedroom, not stoppung until her calves hit the bed. It’s a thing she always does and she realises now that home is a person, not a place, when Skye kisses her like she’s the most important thing in the universe.

"Skye," she whispers, and she feels a smile against her neck.

"Shh, I’m here."

_____

"Jem..?" Skye whispers and she looks down. Skye is splayed out on top of her, naked, and covering practically every inch of her body. Their legs entangled under the sheets, their fingers intertwined on Jemma’s chest.

"Yes?"

"Nothing."

Skye tightens her hold on the scientist and buries her nose in her neck, planting a few soft kisses. Jemma smiles and kisses the top of her head.

Soon she can feel herself dozing off. She tries to fight it, but she hasn’t felt this comfortable in weeks.

_____

When she wakes up she’s naked and cold. The clothes she wore yesterday are folded neatly and lay on her chair.

She didn’t dream it, did she?

She presses her nose into her pillow. It smells like Skye.

Around the apartment there’s no trace of anyone but herself being there, apart from the t-shirt hanging over the back of a chair. There’s a note clipped to it, written in Skye’s clumsy handwriting.

"A little keep-sake. Stay safe. I love you."

Definitely not a dream.


End file.
